


Grief

by hoothootcatdaddy



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, I'm Sorry, Kenma loves Kuroo so much, Kuroo calls Kenma kitten and it's heartbreaking, Kuroo loves Kenma too, M/M, fully Kenma's point of view, internalised angst, not much character/relationship development
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-03
Updated: 2016-07-03
Packaged: 2018-07-19 19:14:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7374058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hoothootcatdaddy/pseuds/hoothootcatdaddy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grief becomes a new constant in Kenma's life, and he deals with it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Grief

**Author's Note:**

> Y'know so many people write major character death but don't delve into the actual emotions too much. I want to portray what I feel grief is and my relationship with grief ever since my gran died. I hope this is relatable to anyone who's ever had to grieve before, and know that you're not alone. Very angsty, so sorry everyone!

Not many people understand the concept of grief, it seems.

Kenma could tell you what grief is, or rather, he can tell you what grief isn’t.

Grief isn’t, for example, a serene tear that falls down your cheeks as you gaze out the bus window on a quiet day. It isn’t sobs that you share with a tight embrace. And it certainly isn’t a nightmare that you wake up from with your pillows wet. 

No, grief is usually much much uglier, and it isn’t something you share. Also the scariest thing about grief is that you wake up into the nightmare. 

What is true though, is that there are many stages of grief, and having company does help for a little while. Lev and Yaku have been incredibly generous to Kenma. So has Inuoka, Fukunaga, his old coach Nekomata, and the rest of Nekoma. His parents have tried tirelessly to comfort him, and so have the Kuroos, which he feels bad about. But grief gives you no pause for reflection; grief is selfish and an attention whore and it demands all your energy and more. 

Yet grief is also a friend, and it’s become a constant that has filled up the gaps that he left. 

_“I want to go home, Kenma” the man on the bed smiled, only a shadow of the man he was before. “Kitten, please.”_

There was no grief here. Anxiety, maybe. Foolish hope, yes, but no grief. Frustrated tears would fall as Kenma held on to the hand of his beloved. 

_“Okay"_

Finally came the day Kuroo Tetsurou could go home. He’d been waiting for a long time - since his relapse he’d been hospitalised. For five months and three weeks have passed, and he could finally go home. 

_“Kuro wait here” he kissed his forehead. “I’ll get your favourite movie.”_

_“Thanks Kitten you’re the best”, Kuroo could barely manage a tired smirk._

When he returned, the man was sleeping, and he was frighteningly still. Dread hit him like a truck, but hope still lingers.

_“Kuro?” he shook his arm. “Kuro I brought Titanic, Kuro!”_

And that was the first moment that grief hit. It curls up your body like quicksand would, and it reaches out to grab at your heart. And it holds it tight, squeezes and squeezes, hard enough to hurt but never enough to break. 

_“Kuro? I brought Titanic, Kuro!”_

Then Kenma realised that he’d never get an answer. Then the tears came, and overwhelming silence crumbled and crushed Kenma like the heaviest earthquake had struck. He’s only been standing for a minute, yet his knees wobble and he falls to the floor. Movie heroines would have flung themselves over the body at this point, but Kenma can’t seem to move. He’s stuck between reality and fantasy, and he clung on to the door like a lifeline. 

After about an hour grief leaves you alone, and lingering bubbles of hope are bursting around you, giving you enough to actually believe that this will be over when you wake up.

But it wasn’t. 

The next day’s funeral kept Kenma busy at least, and he was too busy comforting and being comforted to cry much. There were troublesome guests as well, Bokuto Koutarou kept bursting into random pity parties, but at least his boyfriend tried to keep him in order. People keep sending him looks of pity, but he refused to curl back into the shell Kuroo worked so hard to get rid of. He wore his hair back like a crown and didn’t cry a single tear as the coffin was lowered into the ground. 

The next stage of grief hit when he had to spend the first night alone. 

The funeral had just been over and Kenma had a few more days off work to rest. Try as he might, he couldn’t sleep. He turned on his laptop and played a few games, and he played well into the night till it was four in the morning. He hasn’t slept this late since he moved in with Kuro.

_Kuro._

Grief is the feeling you have at the back of your throat when you feel like you’ve forgotten something but you don’t know what. It builds till it reaches the limit, and suddenly it’s like the goddamn Nile has burst through the dam, and the entire river is trying to fit into your heart. Kenma’s never been shot before, but he imagines it’s how this feels like, because he never knew a feeling could move so fast, grasping from the base of his belly to all around his small heart. Grief isn’t something you can describe, but you can feel it best when you close your eyes, and you hear someone knocking the door but you realise it’s just your own heart in your ear. It’s beating so fast that you’re actually concerned that you might break a vessel. 

Then the crying comes, and grief envelopes your body as it convulses and convulses. Kenma felt like he was crazy because he’s never cried this hard before. His face contorts into an ugly twist; his forehead aches as his eyebrows try to meet, and his mouth opens into an unflattering gape. It’s like he’s trying to scream, but he won’t. He’s torturing himself, because this feeling is painful but addictive and he feels like he might lose the intensity of it if he actually screams out loud. Memories are flooding into his head, memories of Kuroo being perfect and beautiful and annoying but so so beautiful. He’s like a masochist; he keeps thinking desperately of other fonder memories the moment the old one feels like it’s running out of steam. He’s a willing torture subject as he keeps feeding his torturer more fodder to give him pain, and so the pain intensifies and intensifies and his sobs grow louder and louder till it’s the loudest he’s ever cried before and it almost feel as if he could fill this chasm in the room with his voice.

Then it suddenly stops, and the only residual feeling is the ache in his forehead from having frowned too hard.

Grief hits fast and hard, and it takes your breath away and doesn’t wait for you to get used to it. It would continue daily for a week, and Kenma is exhausted but he begins to be exhilarated. He feels that he doesn’t mind grief as it brings him vivid memories of Kuroo so that he doesn’t feel so alone. 

But then the guilt comes.

_“Kenma, you should eat more!” Kuroo drawls and smirks worriedly, if that is possible._

_“I don’t want to,” Kenma snapped and moved away. “Kuro you’re annoying go away.”_

He cringes at the memory.

_“Kenma pay more attention to me you’re always on your PSP”_

_“Kenma what do you want for dinner I’ll make it for you.”_

_“Kenma I’ll pick you up at the station don’t get lost again.”_

_“Kenma I love you kitten.”_

He could count the number of times he’s said I love you back on one hand. 

He hates guilt, because his cries become less intense and his fond memories of Kuroo become less vivid. But gradually, he gets used to it as well and he tries to convince himself that Kuroo didn’t mind doing things for him, and Kuroo always knew that he loved him. Kuroo didn’t need him to say it back. His grief becomes less intense after a while, and for a few months he could actually enjoy Lev’s company without getting distracted with thoughts of Kuroo. He thinks it’s finally going away as he can remember the fond memories without being too sad. 

But guilt doesn’t let you go that easily, Kenma realised as the old convulsions hit him again for the first time in months much stronger than before, and he had to pull his body away from the grocery store and into the back alley where he could cry without shame. His imagination comes to life if he closes his eyes; he could see Kuroo standing before him with a hand on his hip and one stretched out towards him, a familiar grin on his face. 

“Are you alright Kuro?” _I miss you very much. I love you._

_“I’m doing fine Kitten”_

The tenor and quality of his voice, the same voice he hadn’t heard in months, struck deep into his heart. He reached his hand out and grasped at thin air, but he couldn’t seem to grab Kuro’s hand. Kenma settled for imagining Kuroo’s hand in his, and his fingers moved rhythmically to match what Kuroo always did when he caresses his palm. 

Grief is complicated and Kenma could never find words to describe how he feels. But he can tell you what grief isn’t. Grief isn’t anxiety because there’s no anticipation in grief; grief is more like resignation that hurts. Grief isn’t a slow burn, but it chews you up quickly and spits you out, chews you up and spits you out again when you least expect it. Grief isn’t all painful; it’s more like bolts of lightning jolting through your body, much like the pleasure you get when you make love to Kuroo hard and fast, so it gets easy to confuse pleasure and pain. 

And finally, grief isn’t like sadness, or anger, or jealousy, or frustration, or happiness, because unlike all these things, grief never seems to go away.

**Author's Note:**

> I cried while writing this, but it feels good to get this internalised feeling off my chest:D I hope everyone enjoyed my first AO3 work, I certainly enjoyed writing it and I'll probably do more fluff next time!


End file.
